From the Other Side of the Edge…..
A Quiet Tear, …from a Good Man, …for a Day Long Remembered
By Joe Facinoli

I had already written most of my column for this week’s space, when a chance re-discovery of a dusty old book on an office shelf, reminded me quickly of what day it was, …and just as quickly, re-directed my thoughts.

To, …that this particular day’s importance, was of far greater value than anything else which I could be writing about, …at that thought provoking moment.

It was June 6th.

Seventy years removed from the day, …that very day, …of the most important military operation, and undertaking, that the world has ever seen, …or ever known.

The D-Day invasion of the Normandy beaches in northern France, by hundreds of thousands of American, British, and Canadian troops, against the Third Reich’s infamous, and supposedly impenetrable “Sea-Wall” of German forces and artillery, started from southern England in the pre-dawn fog and mist, on that day, …June 6, 1944.

And this special date, now always reminds me of another “chance” encounter, with a magnificent, yet simple old man, who quickly put back into perspective, the magnitude of this day.

And he barely spoke more than a few words.

So, …President Obama, his minions, his forced and blundering agenda, his trainwreck of an administration, and his moronic attempts to cover-up their feckless and juvenile efforts at moving his program forward, …will have to wait, for another week.

A smaller, and more reflective story, is better remembered on this glorious day of accomplishment and achievement.

One recalling a time from whence we can take pride in the type of people we were, and the kind of good and strong stock we came from. Never flinching, …never whining, …never shrinking from the call of duty and country, …and of its responsibilities.


It was a good friend’s birthday, several years ago, and I was in charge of providing the balloons and other party favors, ….and I was late.

I rushed into the local party/dollar store after work, where I was immediately sidetracked by all the “essential” items one finds in a store like that, and the fact that they are practically giving this stuff away, at a dollar per item!

I kept my focus, long enough to get a good handful of silly balloons, but my mind soon wandered off again, when I came upon a table full of books, all of them in the history/military category.

I found two or three that I just “had to have”, including one titled: “The Faces of D-Day, June 6, 1944”.

I’ve always been a history person, especially regarding WWII, and this one looked quite interesting, and different. It was full of hundreds of photographs, with attached stories, of men who had actually fought through the Normandy beachheads, on that famous and history changing day.

Soon after, I took my balloons, some other party junk, and those books, up to the counter to pay for them.

Of course, there was only one register open, and a bit of a line had developed, at that busy time of day.

When it was finally my turn, I noticed that the cashier was an elderly gentleman, obviously retired from somewhere, and probably doing this gig part-time.

As I lay my purchases on the counter, and the old man started to go through them, to get their prices, he paused when he picked up the “D-Day” book.

He stared at it for a short moment, drew a deep breath, and then tapped the cover with a crooked old finger, while looking up at me and saying simply, and very softly: “I was there”.

Well, needless to say, I was more than slightly taken aback, but recovered to ask, near breathlessly: “On June 6, ’44, …you were there??”

To which he answered, again simply and softly, but with a more faltering voice this time: “Yes, …I was. On Omaha Beach.”

Man! This just blew me away!! But I was able to say back to him: “Sir, I know it’s not much, but thank you so much, for your incredible service.”

He didn’t (or couldn’t) answer this last offering from me, but tears then began to run down both his cheeks. He seemed to have a look on his face like he was surprised, or confused, as to why I thought he deserved to be so honored, by me, or by anyone else.

So selfless, so humble, and SO deserving, …of so much more !!

I didn’t say anything more to him, probably because I couldn’t talk much more myself, at that moment, other than to nod, and say “Thank You”, one more time, as he handed me my bag, and those now stupid, and irrelevant balloons.

Soon pushed along by the crowd inside the store, and through the doors, and out into the parking lot, I was once again in my “hurry up”, what’s-next-and-how-fast-can-I-do-it world.

But my mind and thoughts were now somewhere in northernmost France, at a time long ago, and wondering what kind of soul-searching terror those men went through, and how they summoned the courage to simply do their jobs, even if it meant giving up their lives, …all for the love of their country.

That was a time long passed, but for them, …it was the only way they knew how to get that near impossible job done, …which they all knew had to be done, somehow, and some way.

I have never had an experience like that, before or since, …most likely because it was so unexpected, in addition to being so pure.

But I will also never forget that moment, nor the feeling I had just then, for the rest of my life. I felt pride in country, again, and like never before, and was more comfortable with that feeling, than ever before.

My only regret, other than not talking with this fine gentleman a lot more, so to hear the rest of his amazing story, …was that I didn’t offer to give him that damn book!!

I’m sure everyone has a story to tell, like my small one. Some with even greater impact, or effect. And we all have known those who have paid the ultimate price, …for us.

But the older I get, the more and more proud I am to have known so many of these brave souls. Gone, or still with us, …of our age, or from generations before and after ours.

With age comes wisdom (for most), …but an answer to your country’s call to duty, and the courage to do that thankless job, …are timeless, …and are attributes which deserve our unconditional respect, and our life-long gratitude.

I wish for my quiet gentleman, from Omaha Beach, all of life’s goodness.

God Bless him, …and all who have gone where he has.

We owe them everything.

Joe Facinoli
Joe can be reached at: joefacinoli@gmail.com
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© Copyright 2014, Joe Facinoli